The Littlest Champion
by LazyFae
Summary: In his 4th Year in Hogwarts, the day before the Tri-Wizard champions are picked, Harry comes across a mysterious magical artefact that forces his mind and body into that of a young child. He's stuck like that, until he succeeds in passing the unknown requirements needed to transform him back. Everyone else is left scrambling to protect him from the deadly tasks ahead.


Disclaimer: I own nothing but the general plot and OCs

 **IMPORTANT AND ONLY WARNING:**

This is not going to be an extremely dark story but nor is it light hearted and fluffy. I have little to no clue where this is going to go yet and thus can't say for certain what it'll contain.

I will say this: If it can be perceived for a person to do something/have something happen to them it may well be in this story

 **This may or may not include:** **Pairings of all genders and ages. Non consensual and dubious consensual content. Violence. Abuse. Character deaths. Angst. Plot holes.** **discrimination and prejudice. excessive fluffiness and icky romance. Much more.**

That's not to say it will definitely have all this in it, however I'm not too interested in skipping or brushing over something because it's uncomfortable if it's relevant to the plot. If it's included I will try to do the topic genuine credit and treat it with the seriousness it deserves as long as it's not a parody/comedy or a character being politically incorrect.

 **The plot and characters do not necessarily reflect my own views** and so if you are horribly offended by what's coming out a characters mouth/mind or their actions, that's fine.

* * *

 **Info you might want to know:**

I have a weakness for kidfics and de age fics. Particularly with Harry Potter. So I had to do my own. In terms of pairing, if I do any between Harry and someone else, I reckon it will be between Draco Malfoy, Victor Krum, or Cedric Diggory. I'm leaning more toward Krum at the mo, but I may change my mind. I might leave it out altogether. If he is paired with someone it will be a slash pairing for sure.

This doc has been sitting in my files for ages now, and I haven't uploaded it unless I was going to commit to regular updates, but I figured what the hell, I will never get round to updating it unless I upload.

Having said that, expect incredibly sporadic updates. I have a bunch of fics which are in the same state in my files and I will pick up and drop them again as time goes on, or favour one to the exclusion of the others for a while before I take a long break from it.

no beta btw

Finally let me know what works for you, what doesn't, or just what you think in general! As well as anything you'd like to see in the fic going forward.

* * *

 **Chapter 1 - Young Again**

Harry paced nervously along the seventh floor corridor. With the influx of foreign students into Hogwarts he'd been hard pressed to find anywhere that wasn't completely over run. But he'd asked Hermione to meet him here in the hope that he could have a word with her about 'a serious issue'. With most of the upper year students spending their time in the hall to watch others place their names into the goblet of fire, he figured he'd meet her here where few people went on a normal day and so he was almost guaranteed not to run into someone who might be too nosy for their own good. He would have spoken to her in the library or common room, but he didn't want anyone else to overhear. He didn't even want Ron to know... at least not yet. Not until they had a plan.

When he'd gone back to the Dursleys last summer he had hoped that the threat of mass murdering godfather Sirius Black would have been enough to stop his horrid relatives from treating him terribly; something that had been gradually increasing over the years. It did work at first, until in a blind fit of rage Vernon had struck out at Harry. The house had been filled with a fearful silence for over a week, until they realised that no one was coming to save Harry.

It didn't even occur to him at the time to report the incident, sure that he would get the blame, or be told he had to put up with it, or even worse no one would care at all. He'd implied his harsh treatment both at school when he was younger and now he was older. He had been met with disbelief and ridicule when he was a child and he was met with indignant righteousness or sympathy now. But no one had ever made any noise or moves to _do_ anything about it. The thought that anyone might hadn't crossed his mind due to the inaction all his life.

In his mind, it didn't matter how they treated him and how many times he was 'rescued' from the Dursleys, he would always be sent back there. And so when he was struck again a week and a half later, he bore the pain, humiliation, shame, anger and fear in silence. The summer only got worse from there, with the violence increasing and the meals decreasing. Dudley and Petunia in too deep and too alienated from Harry already to say anything against the treatment.

He had wanted to strike back, lash out and put the fear of magic into Vernon's heart, but he remembered all too clearly the warnings he had been given already, and did not want to be expelled. That did not mean, of course, that he didn't stand up for himself. Having lived with his spiteful and hateful relatives for as long as he could remember, he had had to learn to either stand firm for himself whenever he could or be crushed under the weight of their loathing.

He picked his battles, of course, but routine violence was where he drew the line. He didn't often resort to threats to escape a thrashing and hardly ever to physical defence of himself, but to say that the neighbours had been disturbed at the volume and number of arguments they had heard from number four that summer would be an understatement.

He would do anything he could not to return there next summer. And if the adults of both the muggle and wizarding world would never do anything about it, as they had done in the past, then he would go to his brightest and rational friend to help him. Hermione had the knowledge, the brains and the determination to both intimately learn and navigate the laws of the wizarding world regarding child welfare, as well as the understanding of the kind of cruelty that occurred from one person to another on a day to day basis all over the muggle world, even if it was only in theory.

The problem with witches and wizards was that children were so very rarely mistreated by their guardians and family members to that extent that it was hard for them to wrap their heads around that kind of occurrence being horrifyingly common in the muggle world. He had never gone into any more detail than vague, monosyllabic descriptions of his relationships with the Dursleys and was now understandably nervous, but he was sure when he did, she would work together with him and give him the support he needed to ensure he never went back there again.

And if at the end of all their work, he still legally had to return, he knew she would apply her impressive brain to less legal means of allowing him to escape their grasp. Ron on the other hand, carried a lot of the naivety and ignorance of muggle abuse, and so was less likely to understand. He had been angry on Harry's behalf at the idea of his imprisonment and near starvation, but his young and fairly innocent mind had completely failed to grasp the true reality of the situation. That it was more than just 'a rubbish summer with his rubbish muggle relatives'. The Weasley family on the whole had been equally as ignorant, carrying around their wizarding failure to grasp what abuse actually is from guardian to child as well as the lasting psychological impact.

Harry wasn't stupid, most of the time, he was fully aware that a lot of his more destructive and negative behavioural patterns were a result of his family. His hero complex was of a deep seated _need_ to save anyone from the kind of pain he had gone through or worse- he couldn't bear the idea of others facing suffering alone like he had. His inability to trust or go to any adults when faced with a problem was due to his repeated mistreatment by nearly every single adult he had come across who held responsibility over him when young.

His lack of effort into almost any schoolwork was because of his ingrained belief that the harder he worked and the smarter he appeared, the more he would be treated with scorn and suspicion, people just waiting for him to trip up like they did in primary school. Why bother trying when there was no one who really cared about his school work? His utter lack of ability to be outspoken or confide in people unless he felt he absolutely had to was due to the belief that it would get him noticed, it would catch people's attention and make them look, so they would see him as abnormal. He feared they would reject him as a freak, and he never confided because it gave people ammunition against him and his weaknesses. Besides, what were his problems when faced with the difficulties of other people? There was always something more important than him going on.

His bullheaded stubbornness was a result of being faced with choice of believing what everyone around him was saying when they whispered cruel things about him or screamed them in his face, and choosing to believe that everyone was _wrong_ no matter what they said about him and he could push through anything as long as he could stand firm to that view point and any other he made. He _had_ to be right when it came to morals and personalities because if he was completely wrong about one opinion someone disagreed with him on then what if he was wrong about everything else that they had ever spit at him?

His brash, and often reckless bravery was partially the culmination of all these ingrained attitudes, and the idea that if he stopped for too long to _think_ about things before he dived in, he would end up allowing all of those nagging self doubts that whispered to him to take over and he would freeze and nothing would be done. But he had to do something because if someone had to put themselves at risk and act on someone else's behalf then why not him? What was so special about him that he should be exempt from danger? He would always risk himself for someone else no matter what because at the end of the day they were worth more than him. And a small part of him that he rarely dared to acknowledge held the strong belief that he _deserved_ the suffering that he was caused no matter how brief, when risking himself for other people. By helping others and risking any part of himself or his life over and over again he proved himself right and his relatives wrong. And if, one day, he perished in one of these acts, then better him than someone else.

At the end of the day. Any life threatening dangerous situation that got his heart pumping and adrenaline racing proved that he was living and doing, rather than the monotonous non existence that had been him surviving day after day trapped behind the walls of four Privet Drive or isolated, in the darkness of the cupboard under the stairs, wondering if he would be there forever until he died, and if it even mattered if he did because he had never done something worth anything to anyone.

He knew he hadn't always been like this. Sometimes he vaguely remembered days when he was innocent and happy and life had seemed full of potential adventures with new people to meet and the magic of new things to discover. It seemed like back then he could do and explore anything and come out barely scathed, still full of joy and wonder. But those days were long gone when he grew old enough for the malice of the Dursleys to fully be comprehended long enough that they crashed through the bubble that he seemed to surround himself with. He became serious, quiet, more withdrawn. The magic had bled out of his surroundings and mysteries forgotten. He hardly recalled it at all anymore besides during moments of wistfulness for someone he thought he might have been once.

He paced some more as he thought. He still didn't want to talk out in the open with Hermione when she arrived, just in case. He was going to be sharing sensitive information and he needed some help with a few of his more stubborn injuries from the summer that hadn't healed yet. He needed to find a room somewhere that no one else could find. Somewhere forgotten. Just as this thought crossed his mind, a noise and movement out of the corner of his eye made him whip his head round and his eyes bugged.

A door had just appeared out of no where. He knew, obviously, that Hogwarts was a magical building, but it never ceased to surprise him. He cautiously approached the door, checking left and right to make sure this wasn't a prank to make him look stupid, before he pulled on the handle and hesitantly opened it. What he saw made his jaw drop in surprise. Before him lay a humongous room Merlin knows how many times the size of the great hall, absolutely filled with piles upon piles of... Everything. From desks, to books, to half filled cauldrons, to clothes, to wands and prank toys and weapons. Shelves and cages and jewellery. Even a few little creatures could be seen flitting here and there in the nooks and crevices.

He stood gobsmacked at his discovery for a few moments, before blinking dazedly and walking down the closest aisle, his head twisting rapidly as he tried to take in the sheer mass of objects surrounding him. Junk was nestled amongst priceless items and priceless items amongst junk. He had never heard of anything like this in Hogwarts before. He was sure if anyone else had found this room before it would have been made known across the school. This was like... A room of forgotten things. Which had coincidentally been exactly what he was looking for.

Making note of all the twists and turns he was making he continued to wander for a few minutes, until he decided to make his way back to the door to make sure it didn't disappear and Hermione could find the room he was in. Just as he was turning around to head back, a gleam from the corner of his eye caught attention. It was coming from a metal sphere that seemed to be glowing gently from the inside, and had a surface that swirled as thought it were made of liquid.

It gave off a odd feel to it, reminding him strongly of the wistfulness he often felt when recalling the blurry half remembered days of his childhood when it seemed nothing ever got to him for long. When any fear was brief and fleeting, instead of the cold heavy weight of fear that settled permanently when he grew older but learnt to ignore.

Slowly he made his way toward it, drawn by the feeling of nostalgia and childhood wonderment it seemed to give off, growing in strength as he got closer. Flashes of youthful excitement surged through him, along with the echo of limitless possibilities that was walking out of the front door. The amazement at the seemingly banal and ordinary things that he was still witnessing for the first time, like sarcasm, and music, and being able to swing at the park using his own momentum, and when the wind blew so strong he thought it might lift him clean off the ground allowing him to fly.

He reached his hand toward the orb and the metallic surface seemed to swirl faster, the inner glow brightening as his fingers closed around it. When he finally made contact, the metal ball was warm, the aura it gave off settling in the back of his mind and in his chest and gut. It brought with it echoes of emotions he had long left behind. It made him happy and mournful all at the same time. It was surprisingly light, the weight of it comforting in in his palm. He smiled and suppressed a chuckle, before returning to his passage toward the door.

Making his way to the exit successfully, with only a few wrong turns that were quickly corrected, Harry left the room, and upon seeing that Hermione hadn't arrived yet, leant against the door frame with the door half open, to ensure he didn't loose the room. As he waited for her to arrive, his nerves mostly settle by the excitement of this new discovery which was being made substantially larger by the feelings the ball he had found were encouraging, he began to throw the sphere and catch it in his right hand, mulling slightly over the strong de ja vu these emotions caused.

His eyes and mind drifted as he threw and caught the ball, imagining how uncomfortable he knew he would feel asking Hermione for help in the first place, and then the relief and gratitude he was sure would take place when she became determined about something. He knew that with her help he would have more direction and purpose, as well as better insight into what the hell he was supposed to do. Once Hermione had done a ton of research and had made a plan, then he would go to Ron. He knew that whilst Ron wouldn't understand the moral or emotional reasons behind the plan like Hermione, he would be supportive and just as determined as Hermione once they told him their goal and how to get there.

As Harry thought, trying to bolster his own spirits at what was about to come with the near certainty of his friends' help, his fingers closed around the sphere a moment too soon, and the ball bounced off of his fingers and clanged onto the stone floor. He looked down at the ball, his heart jumping at the noise, and gasped. The ball was cracked, and out of the cracks the glow, which had been coming from the inside, was now shining through brightly. The ball began to shake and vibrate, getting more violent in its quivering as Harry began to take a step back, unsure of what to do.

The cracks fractured and multiplied along the surface and more bright white light shone through them, the ball now rocking and spasming on the floor, until finally it cracked open, the light bursting forth like from a star. Harry shielded his eyes, his wand out, the light seemed to blind everything, including his thoughts. Everything was blank and formless for a moment, and then the light disappeared, leaving behind no sign of the sphere ever having been there in the first place.

* * *

Hermione hurried along a fast but steady pace. Harry had told her to meet him in the seventh floor corridor that was rarely frequented, and had made it sound pretty important. He had been acting slightly differently since the beginning of the year; more contemplative and quiet. It seemed almost like he was plotting. Hermione had left him to it for the time being, deciding that whatever he was thinking about, he seemed to be working through some things by himself and if he needed help she would be there for him.

No one else had noticed, but then people generally weren't able to observe small differences in Harry when he was otherwise unoccupied like she could. And Ron was the most unobservant person she'd ever met. She was late meeting him, caught up in watching the first brave set of students enter their name just after the feast, but she knew he would still be waiting for her since she was only about ten minutes behind the stated meeting time.

As she walked, getting closer to the stated meeting spot, she thought she heard something, and paused, listening. Yes, there it was again. It sounded like the light pat pat pat of bare feet slapping the ground as someone ran. It began to get closer, and Hermione frowned, curious at who would be running around with no shoes or socks in a stone castle, in Autumn, in the evening, in chilly Scotland. From the sound, it was someone who didn't weigh much, and probably short legs. A first year perhaps.

And then the person connected to the small pitter patter turned the corner, causing Hermione to freeze in shock and denial, with wide eyes and a gaping jaw.

A tiny, stark naked, child stopped when he saw Hermione and eyed her with an unsure smile. He tilted his head adorably, and seemed to wait for her to gather her bearings in order to know how she would react to him so he could respond appropriately.

She used this time to quickly pinch herself, and then hiss quietly in pain, so she wasn't imagining this. There genuinely was a toddler running around the castle completely naked. Suddenly she spotted the wand in the child's right hand that hung by his side. Taking another look at the boy, realisation crashed down upon her, causing her to gasp and cover her mouth.

As the shock settled in, her legs turned to jelly and she slid to floor, trying to get her head around what she was seeing.

"H-Harry..?" She tremulously inquired, trying not to start laughing or crying hysterically. The unsure smile turned into a beaming grin on the little boys face.

"Hello," he replied, sounding thrilled that she knew his name. Hermione let out a choked sound at the confirmation.

"B-but-wha-h-how I-you...you... Harry?" She stuttered, trying to get her brain working again as it freaked out over the impossibility of what she was seeing. Harry giggled from behind a hand, amused at her incoherency.

"Is this a castle?" He asked, his eyes glittering in excitement and amazement. Hermione had never seen anything approaching that on his face before. It always carried a certain solemn edge to it, even when he was laughing. She nodded dumbly, still stuck on what to say.

"What happened to you Harry? How did you get... so small?" She asked slightly desperately.

Harry giggled again, like she had said something ridiculous, "I've always been this big silly. Apart from when I was a baby. Then I was reeeally little," he displayed his previous size with his fingers, squinting through one eye, "but now I'm a big boy. See?" He reached up as tall as he could, looking to Hermione for approval. She stared blankly for a moment, before she cleared her throat.

"Uhh... Yeah. I mean, yes of course I see. You're very big now and soon you'll be as big as me." Her voice was slightly strangled initially, but as she spoke her mind began to clear again. She could sort this out, it probably wasn't that big of a deal, she'd just take him to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey would have him sorted out in no time.

"Harry?" She asked hesitantly. He nodded vigorously in reply, "where are your clothes?"

Harry looked down at himself, wrinkling his brow slightly in confusion as he thought,

ummm... I can't remember." He didn't look too bothered at his lack of ability to remember, so Hermione concluded that he had lost them in the transition from fourteen to... However old he was. Three from what she could tell.

"Are you cold?" She asked concerned. Harry looked up at her in surprise at the question, though Hermione didn't know what was so surprising about it. He nodded his head, wrapping his arms around his chest to conserve heat.

"Come here then. I'll give you my cloak to wear," she gave him an encouraging smile, and began to take her cloak off. Harry's face lit up in joy, and her chest squeezed tight in response. He ran eagerly toward her, his feet pitter pattering on the stone floor, and practically threw himself into her cloak as she wrapped it around him.

"Thank you!" He cried, his radiant smile aimed at her, snuggling into the thick fabric of her cloak. They were at fairly equal heights with her on the floor still and Hermione could see the lightening bolt scar that left her without a doubt that this toddler was Harry. It seemed to take up much more room on his forehead than when he was older. His glasses were slipping off his nose too.

"You're welcome Harry. Do you mind if I carry you, so we can see Madam Pomfrey together and see if we can get you some clothes of your own?" She asked, only half faking her cheerfulness. He really was an adorable child.

"Ok!" He agreed, allowing Hermione to pocket his glasses and wand so she didn't have to worry about them falling to the floor whilst she carried him. She stood up, and saw that he certainly was tiny. His head only reached around the bottom of her hips, and seeing as she certainly wasn't the tallest person in the school, at about 5' 6. She thought he would reach the middle of most people's thighs, if that, amongst the upper years and adults. She picked him up and sat him comfortable on her hips; he didn't weigh much, he wrapped his little arms around her neck, and she began walking toward the infirmary, desperately hoping they didn't come across anyone who would impede them.

"What's your name?" He asked innocently, but the question made her breath catch in her throat. Did he not remember anything from before the age he appeared to be?

"Hermione," she replied, in a slightly strained voice. She saw him wrinkle his brow a little and chew his lip, "you can call me 'Mione if my full name is too difficult for you," she added with a small knowing smile. He grinned back at her.

"Mynee!" He chirped excitedly, making her chuckle.

"Close enough, Harry."

* * *

"Blimey mate," Ron breathed in surprise the next afternoon, as he stood in the infirmary with Hermione looking down at the bed that contained little Harry. It had been one thing for Hermione to tell him last night -and it had taken three times to really sink in- and another to stand there really _seeing_ it. Harry smiled politely at Ron, fiddling with the cloak he was still wearing above his hospital gown.

"Hello, my name is Harry. And that's Mynee," Harry enthusiastically informed Ron, pointing at himself and Hermione respectively, "hello Mynee!" He waved.

Hermione chuckled and waved back, "hello Harry. This is Ron. He's our friend. Did you have a nice night here? You weren't too scared were you?"

"No, the bed is really comfy, and I didn't like that the room was so big at first, but I hid in my bed and that made it all better," he announced proudly, "and Poppy said that she was staying close so I wasn't scared."

"Err... _Poppy_?" Ron mouthed to Hermione incredulously.

"Honestly Ronald, Madam Pomfrey is clearly far too much of a mouthful for him," she rolled her eyes at him and Harry giggled from behind his hand.

As though summoned by the use of her name, Madam Pomfrey entered the room and walked briskly toward the Golden Trio, a stressed look on her face.

"Good afternoon Miss Granger, Mister Weasley, Mister Potter. I assume you came here to find out when I can reverse the enchantment on Mister Potter and have him back to his trouble making self?"

Both Ron and Hermione nodded in confirmation. When Hermione had carried Harry to the medical wing, Madam Pomfrey had stated that Harry had had a complex enchantment layered upon him in order to revert him to a child. After interrogating Hermione about how she found him, the fierce woman had merely ushered Hermione out of the room and told her to return the next day for a full prognosis.

Initially the girl had had few worried about Harry's state, but seeing Madam Pomfrey's thinned lips and tense eyes made her reassess that conclusion.

"I spent the morning doing some more in depth diagnosis and studying on the enchantment. It's looking less and less like a matter of simply unraveling the layers one by one and more of a case of unlocking them. This is substantially more problematic," the medi-witch admitted unhappily.

"Huh?" Ron asked intelligently. Even Hermione had to admit she was a little lost at the difference. Madam Pomfrey sighed irritably.

"Simply put- and let me assure you it is actually far more complicated than this- if it were a simple layered if complex enchantment, I could simply pick it apart layer by layer until the final one is stripped from Mister Potter and he reverts back to his fourteen year old self. However due their much more complicated and powerful nature than I had at first suspected, each layer needs _something_ to dissolve it. Each layer could need something different to lift them, be it a spell to be cast upon Harry or by him, a food to be eaten, a potion to be taken, a phrase to be said, an idea to be discovered, an action to be done.

"On top of that, each layer needs to be unlocked in a certain order. If each layer could be unlocked from the outside in, like many enchantments of this kind, I could simply tear my way through them with a mixture of skill, finesse and brute strength, despite it taking some time. Unfortunately I have discovered that the first layer is the inner most layer. I cannot reach it. Nor do I know how many layers there are.

"Furthermore, with no knowledge of who or what cast the enchantment, and with Mister Potter unable to give me further information, I don't know how to break this without loosing it to run its natural course, which could take who knows how long. I don't even know what the purpose to this enchantment is," Madam Pomfrey finished with a weary yet concerned look toward Harry, who sat there playing with his toes and ignoring the conversation around him.

Whilst Hermione was busy absorbing this information and trying not to burst in tears at the seemingly hopeless situation, Ron bluntly stated, "what do you mean you don't know the purpose? It's clearly to make Harry a defend less vulnerable little kid!"

Madam Pomfrey tutted at Ron's ignorance of complex layered and locked enchantments, "generally the enchantments are designed so that in order to unlock them all, in the process of discovering the passwords the person has to complete something, or learn something, or discover something, or to have their worth tested. Something along those lines. Harry is in child form for a reason, and I doubt we will know what the goal of unlocking the layered enchantments will be until he has successfully completed it."

"Isn't there anything else you can do?" Hermione pleaded despairingly, hating the idea of Harry being forced into the body of a young and defenceless child, with a naive mind, surrounded by Slytherins and other suspicious people.

"I will spend the rest of the day finding out more about Mister Potter as a child in case this is a long term problem, as well as seeing if I can discover more about the layered enchantment. If it still looks as unsolvable by the eve I will inform the headmaster so we can sort out arrangements for young mister Potter for where to go next. I'm afraid that is all I can give to you," Madam Pomfrey bustled about making beds as she spoke, before leaving the room again with a firm 'good day'.

Hermione and Ron were left in silence, contemplating the influx of new information and clinging to the silent support each other's presence gave them. Finally Ron sucked in a deep breath and let it all out in a loud whoosh.

"It'll be alright Hermione. Nothing we can do now anyway except find out who did this to him and make sure he's ok," he bumped shoulders with his best friend reassuringly and she nodded in response.

"You're right Ron, a surprisingly common sense and mature opinion for you," she appraised, and Ron didn't know whether to scowl or blush. Instead he turned to Harry, who had now buried himself under the sheet of the infirmary bed and wriggling around playing some sort of silent game. The sight put a small smile on their faces.

"Hey mate. Watcha doing there?" He chuckled.

"Playing," came the slightly muffled response.

"I can see that Harry. Can you tell us what you're playing?" Hermione grinned. Harry wriggled his way back up the bed and his dark mop of hair appeared, along with a pair of green mischievous eyes and happily stretched lips.

"Playing exploring. I was looking for magic," came the cheerful response. Hermione sat on the edge of his bed and straightened out his hair a bit, as Harry seemed to find this action both surprising and awe inspiring if his expression was anything to go by.

"You don't need to search for magic. It's all around us. It's in the air, and in plants and animals. It's in the water and ground. It's in me and you and Ron here. It's even in the very stones of this castle," Hermione softly informed him. Ron nodded sagely.

"Really?" Harry breathed, eyes wide, "this is a magic castle?"

"Yes. This is a very special magic castle called Hogwarts. Magic is very plentiful here. It's everywhere. You just need to know how to use it."

Hermione hesitated and shared a glance with Ron, who gave an encouraging nod, "Harry... Do you... Do you remember Hogwarts? Or me and Ron? Or magic... Or wizards?"

Harry looked at her strangely, "I remember you from yesterday. Of course I remember magic! I can do it when I wish really hard. But I don't know about the other things."

Ron frowned in confusion. How could Harry have no clue about the wizarding world or Hogwarts but remember his ability to do magic?

"Harry mate, what's the last thing you remember?" He asked. Harry scrunched his forehead in confusion for a long moment.

"I... Think... I was going to bed, and Uncle Vernon was angry with me because I broke a glass. But..."

"But?" Hermione prodded.

"It feels like it happened a long time ago as well... I don't- I dunno how to explain. I know I came here and I'm s'posed to be here. But I don't know how. Stuff happened that I don't remember... But it's ok, I'm not supposed to remember," he twisted his fingers pensively as he spoke slowly, before peering through his eyelashes up at them shyly.

Hermione and Ron shared another significant glance. It sounded like Harry had suppressed most, if not all of his memories, but he knew the memories were suppressed and whatever the enchantment was, it was designed to be comfortable and make the person work with it instead of against it as much as possible, by making the person easily accept the consequences of the enchantment.

"Do you know how old you are Harry?" Hermione asked, in order to help confirm her theory.

"Five!" The grinning boy exclaimed, holding up the correct number of fingers. Ron and Hermione were taken aback for a moment. Harry certainly did not look five years old. He looked like he was three years old.

"Blimey mate, you're tiny!" Ron practically yelped, and Harry scowled playfully.

"Am not! You're just big!" He cried indignantly, causing both teens to stifle their laughter and their best friend's adorableness.

"Of course he his Harry. He's a giant. It's definitely not natural," Hermione played along.

"Oi!"

"But it's okay! It looks good on you. You look like you're supposed to be tall," Harry hastily assured Ron, his wide eyes imploring Ron not to get upset. Both his friend's smiled at his sweet attempt to save Ron's feelings, in case he had genuinely been offended.

"I agree, my height makes me look manly," he nodded proudly, and Harry giggled behind his hand again.

"I'm going to be big too like you when I'm older," Harry insisted, and Ron and Hermione smiled wryly at the knowledge that Harry was significantly shorter than Ron when he was 14, and only marginally taller than Hermione.

"You'll never get any taller if you don't lie down for a nap Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey's brisk no nonsense voice travelled through the door as she leaned into the room and eyed him sternly.

"But I don't take naps!" Harry protested, causing Madam Pomfrey to harrumph.

"You do today young man. You're magic is unstable at the moment and until it settles you'll be needing to sleep more. Therefore it will be early to bed and midday naps for you," she firmly announced.

"Mynee and Ron only just got here," Harry's round face and eyes looked pleadingly up at the medi-witch. His slightly wobbling bottom lip almost cracked the woman, but in the end she stood strong by her decision.

"It's okay Harry, we'll visit you again after dinner before you go to bed," Hermione placed her hand on Harry's back and rubbed it softly. The gentle touch seemed to drain out any resistance he had.

"Okay," he mumbled, giving Hermione a slightly hero worshipping look after she pulled him in for a warm hug, and Ron a thrilled laugh when he ruffled the boy's hair.

"See ya mate." They left, waving goodbye to a slightly disconsolate Harry, but he out up little fuss under the strict gaze of Madam Pomfrey and settle down for a nap.

* * *

Harry's disappearance had gone largely unnoticed by all but the Gryffindor fourth year boys and a few of the teachers. The excitement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and appearance of the other schools had mostly distracted the others who might have noticed his absence.

As it was, the boys and teachers who asked were merely told by Hermione and Ron that Harry was in the infirmary having an enchantment removed by Madam Pomfrey, which was accepted without further question by them all.

By the time it was dinner that evening, even the teachers and fourth year boys had forgotten that Harry had been absent, caught up in the event that was soon to come. Ron too turned his mind mostly away from Harry's new diminutive size, but Hermione on the other hand barely spared a thought for the soon to be choosing of the champions.

She was too caught up in worrying about Harry's mounting work pile and how he would keep on top of school of he spent a long time as a child. Who would look after him? Would he be sent back to the Dursleys? Where would he eat and sleep? Would his de-ageing be announced or would it be covered up? All these questions and more plagued her while she sat at the table picking at her food. Ron probably would have noticed and made an effort to comfort her with some terribly picked words if he weren't so caught up drooling at the Beauxbatons girl sitting at the Ravenclaw table.

Soon the feast ended, and Hermione was itching to leave so she could check on Harry like they promised they would. But they had to stay for the sorting. The candles in the hall went out, leaving the only source of light to be from the Goblet of Fire. The voices hushed into silence and everybody's eyes were on Dumbledore as he stood in the dim the room.

"In just a few moments the Goblet of Fire will choose three champions; one from each school, to compete in the Tri-Wizard tournament," his voice uncharacteristically serious, "I must warn you, that once your name comes out of the Goblet there is no turning back. You must compete until the end, or on your magic be it." His eyes swept over the room, impressing the importance of his message into each and every student present as the tension in the room mounted.

He turned back to the Goblet just as the fire turned red and spit out a piece of slightly burnt paper into the air.

"The first champion from Beauxbatons is... Fleur Delacour!" The students and teachers clapped politely, most of the males and those from Beauxbatons with slightly more vigour and a bit of cheering.

The gorgeous blond smirked with a mixture of pride, surprise, happiness and nervousness as she stood up and was ushered into the next room to wait for the others, ignoring many of the jealous glances she was receiving from the girls. The crowd went silent again once she left and the fire turned red once more. The second piece of paper was spit out into the air, caught by Dumbledore.

"The second champion from Hogwarts is... Cedric Diggory!" There was much louder clapping and cheering as well as a healthy amount of table banging from the students and teachers of Hogwarts as the popular Cedric Diggory was jostled and shoved playfully to the front and into the next room, with a murmured 'well done' from Dumbledore.

The crowd quieted as the fire turned red and spit out the charred piece of paper for Durmstrang.

"And the third and final champion from Durmstrang is... Viktor Krum!" Once more there was a significant amount of cheering and clapping from the students and teachers, with the Durmstrang students stamping in time with each other on the floor. Viktor Krum stood, his usually stoic countenance showing a small smile. However the smile was quickly wiped off his face when his Headmaster caught his eye and gave a particularly fierce cheer whilst he made his way into the second room.

"Congratulations now that these champions have been chosen. The best and brightest of their year. However the-"

Dumbledore was cut off as the Goblet of Fire burned red once again, the whispers picked up across the hall and teachers looked on with concern. A fourth piece of paper spit out of the Goblet, caught and unfolded by Dumbledore, who looked gravely at the name written.

"Harry Potter," he stated quietly, however it carried easily across the room to each person. This whispers and murmurs picked up, quickly beginning to turn from shocked and confused to angry and indignant.

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore commanded across the hall, scanning the room for the fourth champion.

Hermione and Ron's hearts had stopped when they heard their best friend's name called out. Initially both had a faced a moment of denial, but then dread and confusion sunk in quickly. Hermione understood the ramifications of Harry's name coming out of the Goblet much better than Ron, but both knew this was a very bad thing.

When Dumbledore called out Harry's name a second time, Ron whispered with trepidation.

"Do you he could have-"

"No," she replied firmly, "he had no time before I took him to the infirmary last night." Ron nodded and watched the angry murmurs in the hall pick up quickly, a heavy feeling in his stomach. Why did this stuff always happen to Harry? He was stuck as a tiny five year old in a magically binding deadly competition.

"Mr. Harry Potter!" Dumbledore's booming voice demanded that Harry come forth, his ire increasing. The murmurs had gotten louder and vicious voices could be heard calling out 'cheat' and 'liar'.

Hermione hesitantly stood and walked forward, her heart beating in her ears at drawing the attention of the hostile hall. However when the voices went quiet at seeing her, she took a deep breath before lifting her chin confidently to Dumbledore.

"Miss Granger, could you inform me of Mister Potter's whereabouts, so we might glean an explanation from him?" It was less of a question and more of an order.

"It is obvious what happened! The boy cheated, he's got no honour! He should be punished!" Karkaroff stood up, snarling in outrage. There were agreeing sounds coming from the students.

"'Ee should be expelled!" Madame Maxime cried, eliciting more agreeing murmurs from the ground. At hearing his best friend insulted and accused like that, Ron's face flushed angrily and he quickly joined Hermione in supporting him.

"He didn't do it!" He snapped at them all. The were loud calls of denial at Ron's words, causing his face to flush brighter still. Dumbledore raised his hands to them all, in order to quiet them.

"Silence please!" His loud voice drowning out all others, "now. Miss Granger?"

"Harry's been in the infirmary since right after the feast last night. I came straight from the hall when it was still full of people placing their names in and found him in a corridor. Since then he hasn't left the infirmary. He _couldn't_ have done it," she bravest informed the hall. The bitter mutters had gone silent and Hermione was glad many were looking at her in contemplation now.

"Nonsense!" Karkaroff shouted, "the brat is faking it so he could sneak out at night and still have an alibi."

Hermione and Ron grit their teeth when they saw people were inclined to believe this and incriminate him rather than give Harry the benefit of the doubt.

"No! You don't understand! When I say he couldn't have done it I mean it! He's had a layered locked enchantment placed on him and Madam Pomfrey hasn't been able to remove it yet. I've had his wand on me the whole time he's been there. Even if he was faking it and snuck out, he couldn't have cast anything to trick the goblet. And he simple hasn't had the time to plan for someone else to cheat for him."

Hermione could see the general opinion swaying to Harry's side and sighed in relief. She could see a mixture of relief and concern mirrored on Dumbledore's face.

"Yeah if anything, someone else put his name in to get him in trouble or put him in danger," Ron added, still annoyed that they would condemn him so easily and ignoring the slight guilt at the knowledge that had his friend not been a five year old, he probably would gave blamed Harry for it too.

"Very well Miss Granger, Mister Weasley. Thank you for clearing things up for us," Dumbledore turned to Crouch, the walking rule book, "Barty? Since its apparent that Mister Potter did not enter himself perhaps he can be exempt from competing?" He didn't sound too hopeful though.

"It appears the culprit has used Mister Potter's name written on parchment by Mister

Potter's hand. Because of this, unless he is physically or mentally crippled, he must compete or lose his magic. It appears that whatever effect the enchantment has on him it does not exempt him, or his name would not have come out in the first place," Crouch's bored monotone voice explained. Hermione and Ron felt despair pull at them. Surely they couldn't make a five year old compete against obstacles that would certainly kill him?

"Ziss iz an outrage!' Madame Maxime snapped,"eet does not matter 'ow ze boy was entered. All zat matters iz zat you 'ave deux shampions whereas we 'ave only one. I demand zat we pick anuzzer shampion each!"

Karkaroff nodded emphatically in agreement and Dumbledore looked to Crouch. The dull man appeared to give it some thought before he nodded once.

"Very well. Perhaps it would be fairer to allow fourteen to sixteen year olds to enter their names in order to be compete against Mister Potter. We can then allow each task to have a senior champion and a junior champion. By making the task less dangerous for the junior champions we can limit the risk of fatality to our younger competitors," Dumbledore's fast mind thought up, and was agreed on by the other adults.

Crouch sighed, looking bored, before he cast some spells at the Goblet to keep it lit and to select two new champions from the selection of names about to be placed.

"It will choose tomorrow at the end of lunch. At that point the tournament begins and I will give the clue for the first task," Crouch announced, before leaving the room to meet with the tournament organisers so that they could plan for the extra competitors.

Karkaroff, Madame Maxime and professor McGonagall went to inform the current chosen champions of the unexpected change in the tournament, whilst Dumbledore had Hermione and Ron follow him to the infirmary to tell Harry about this new plot to ruin his year.

As they were walking along the corridors, Hermione warned Dumbledore, "I don't think he'll really understand when you tell him about the Tri-Wizard tournament sir. The enchantment... It's changed him physically as well as mentally." Attempting to keep it subtle enough that the paintings couldn't have the gossip all over the school by the end of the day.

"We'll just have to do our best about explaining it to Mister Potter and preparing him for it then. I wish he did not have to compete but alas it is not up to me. The Tri-Wizard tournament falls under the ministry jurisdiction," Dumbledore sighed wearily, "one would think I would have more say in the ministerial proceedings toward our school being the Chief Warlock unfortunately the opposite often occurs. The ministry severely limits my power in that way to ensure I do not find myself with too much power and too few rules."

Hermione and Ron were silent as they got an insight into the odd way the country was run. Hermione had never really thought about it before, but it was very strange that Dumbledore had been allowed to become supreme Mugwump _and_ headmaster _and_ chief warlock. Surely there were rules in place that stopped one person from being allowed to hold that much power over the country?

"Is that legal headmaster? Stopping you from having a say in the school as chief warlock," Hermione hesitantly inquired.

Dumbledore chuckle ruefully, "I'm not entirely sure Miss Granger, but I'm certain that it should legally be a lot more difficult than it has been made to be. You'll find that many of the laws in the wizarding world are so old and outdated or largely ignored that many people treat a large majority of them as guidelines. Of course, the fact that I cannot add new curriculum, as Chief Warlock and the headmaster must work in tandem which I cannot do, I find myself unable to remedy the situation of teaching our children the laws of the wizarding world so that they may hold our ministry accountable."

Hermione was rather horrified to hear this, coming from the muggle world where things appeared to be almost the opposite.

"Why don't you just choose one or the other sir?" Ron asked.

"I often ask myself the same question Mister Weasley. Alas, when I look around I often find myself comparing whoever should take my place and wondering if they would be as impartial as they appear... Or don't appear as the matter often is," Albus smiled tiredly at Hermione, giving her a glimpse of the real Albus Dumbledore behind the twinkling eyes and cheerful smile.

He was exhausted. He was often disillusioned with the country. He had his hands tied in so many ways so that he couldn't make the country a better place from his position like he should have been able to. But she also saw that he had given up trying to make things better one step at a time, brick by brick, law by law, debate by debate.

He has settled for focussing on making sure things didn't get too much worse instead of counter moves against the likes of Lucius Malfoy to make things fairer and less prejudiced. She imagined it didn't help that it seemed no one really knew which laws of there were to be followed and what the ministry was just claiming was so. If she thought about it, _she_ didn't even know the laws that well beyond the obvious. An unforgivable oversight now she realised what a disadvantage it put her at.

"Is the ministry of magic corrupt sir?" Hermione asked quietly. She hadn't felt comfortable asking such a question to the headmaster, but she figured he was there to educate her about the wizarding world and this was a perfect opportunity to know from someone who experienced the best and worst of it all first hand. It sounded like a place ripe for corruption if what he said was true, and it also crushed a few ideas she had about absolute authority figures. Dumbledore chuckled one more.

"Undoubtedly so. I believe a childhood friend of mine once told me that there was no distinction between the ministry and corruption. Ah but he was often both cynical and idealistic at the same time. Perhaps it is not so bad."

They arrived at the infirmary, a pensive silence hovering over both Ron and Hermione, whilst Dumbledore whistled merrily. Madam Pomfrey was waiting for them to arrive, standing in front of Harry's bed that was currently empty.

"Ah Poppy! I heard young Harry found himself under the power of a layered locked enchantment. I hope it's not too debilitating. I have some... rather unexpected news for him."

At that moment a young voice called through the door from her office, "Aunt Poppy, the pink crayon ran out!" Followed by the owner of said voice, holding the nub of a pink crayon aloft. Harry stopped suddenly when he spotted the trio who had just entered.

"Ah. This may be problematic," Dumbledore mused, stunned.

* * *

Ron watched distractedly as Harry sat in Dumbledore's lap putting many plaits into the oblivious man's beard and tying colourful beads and strings and feathers into them that he somehow kept producing from his pockets. He considered pinching himself to check if he was having a really strange dream, but then decided that this was Dumbledore and Harry. Strange things always happened around them. Hermione was desperately trying to ignore Harry's diligent efforts and listen to the conversation with only partial success.

"From what I can tell he's five years old. But he's suffering from long term malnutrition and dehydration, hence his small stature. He has retained the absolute basic knowledge that he needs to get by here without being too bewildered; that is the existence of magic and that the last thing he remembered happened a long time ago to him, but whatever has happened to him since his five year old memories occurred to get him here at Hogwarts surrounded by people who know him, but that he has no recollection of, are just not to be remembered yet. He is intelligent, curious, independent and remarkably difficult to truly surprise. I have no doubt that only he can break the enchantment lock by lock, and I have no idea how long that may take."

"Unfortunately the Goblet of Fire that his name came out of still views him as physically and mentally capable of performing the tasks, which his magic is bound to. Unless the the organisers find a way in the rules to excuse him from it entirely, he will be forced to face dangerous tasks to stop him from losing his magic and becoming a squib. Magic that he currently can't access properly because he's a child. All we can do for now is try to arrange something with the organisers."

To say Madam Pomfrey looked unhappy was an understatement but she didn't comment on the situation and instead asked, "what do we do with him in the meantime. He cannot stay in the infirmary the whole time, but I need him accessible in case there is a breakthrough in the enchantment."

"Miss Granger, Mister Weasley? Do you believe yourselves capable of looking after young Harry whilst he is unable to look after himself? You may, of course, approach either myself, Madam Pomfrey or any of the Heads of Houses for help should you need it. I will make a few house elves help you as well should you require their assistance with him. Please do not abuse their willingness to help."

Hermione's jaw tightened at the knowledge that Hogwarts employed House Elves, and she would have raised the issue of what she perceived to be slavery, but she reminded herself that she both had more important things to deal with right now, and had already acknowledged that she needed to be better acquainted with the laws of the wizarding world first.

"I'd love to. But what about clothes, toys, looking after him during lessons, and Harry's role as a student as well as all that entails?" She asked. Dumbledore gave her an approving look, which she basked under with a slight tint of colour to her cheeks.

"Very well thought out Miss Granger. I will arrange for one of the house elves to purchase clothes and toys for Mister Potter tomorrow. In the meantime we will just have to shrink some of his school clothes. As for looking after him during lessons, I will trust you to find people you deem suitable either as a one off each time, or a steady group. If you have trouble with this at any point I'm sure an available teacher won't mind watching him for a few hours. Harry's work will have to be put to one side, seeing as this enchantment could last from days to years. We will readdress the issue when he is back to his normal self. Curfew still applies to him of course, and out of bounds is out of bounds. But detentions and house point deductions will not apply to him. As for the other school rules... Let's say the ones that apply to safety of himself and others as well as those that are more serious such as the destruction of property still apply. Does that answer your questions?"

Hermione nodded happily, if a little intimidated at the idea of looking after a child full time.

"Excellent! We'll make an announcement at breakfast tomorrow to warn everyone of the change, and I will be checking in periodically as well as having teachers report as often as possible to ensure we are all supporting yourself, Mister Weasley and Mister Potter as much as possible."

"Thank you professor, we won't let you down," Hermione stated, a determined expression on her face. Ron nodded distractedly, wondering how in Merlin's name Harry had managed to change the colour of Dumbledore's hair in some of the plaits. What was possibly even more disturbing was that the young boy had somehow managed to colour coordinate the plaits to suit the headmaster's gaudy robes. A feat Ron would have previously guessed to be impossible to find anything that suited the monstrosities Dumbledore wore each day.

Madam Pomfrey's lip quivered with suppressed mirth, but she successfully maintained a professional demeanour and passed a small wooden box to Hermione.

"These are potions that should help with damage done by the malnourishment. Since he's so young still it might even help him grow taller and stronger. There's seven in there; one for each morning before breakfast. Come back and get another batch by the end of the week."

Hermione and Ron both nodded, and promised to make sure Harry would take them.

"I think perhaps it is time for young Harry to be taken to the Gryffindor dormitories and to bed," Dumbledore smiled, stroking his beard. He frowned minutely at the odd feel to it and looked down, before promptly making a choking sound in the back of his throat. Both Hermione and Ron bit their bottom lip desperately trying to stifle laughter.

"Do you like it?" Harry asked, looking up at Dumbledore with an innocent smile.

"It's very... artistic my boy," Dumbledore looked like he didn't now whether to groan or chuckle. Harry beamed in response.

"Come on then Harry. Let's get you to bed," Hermione stated, eyeing Ron purposefully. She didn't want Harry to massively favour one of them over the other so that they could both take equal shares of the work. Ron got the message, picked up Harry from Dumbledore's lap, and placed him on his shoulders, much to Harry's delight. The young boy immediately got to work putting little plaits into Ron's hair that stuck out at odd angles from his head.

Hermione looked on fondly, surprised at the normal temperamental red head's willingness to cater to Harry's whims, with nothing more than an eye roll.

"Better make me look good mate. I don't want one of those half done amateur jobs yeah?" Ron asked with mock seriousness, causing Harry to laugh and nodded in agreement.

Both teenagers had expected at least minor amounts off fuss from the five year old at brushing his teeth and being put into bed, but he treated it all with the same enthusiasm and willingness that he'd done everything so far. They left the boy's dormitory having said goodnight to him, wondering just how exactly that lovable and easy going child had turned in their Harry- serious, quiet, fairly withdrawn.

* * *

 _What do you think? No Ronald Weasley bashing in this one. I think his character is interesting and it doesn't get enough people exploring him as someone with obvious flaws but also obvious great things about him. I don't really think he gets enough credit._

 _How do you think Harry will survive the Tri Wizard tournament? How will those usually antagonistic toward him respond to his chibi state? What do you think is the ultimate goal of the de aging ball?_

 _Also I'm not going to do much altering of his speech to suit kiddie talk. Just add some high pitched lispy slurring to your imagination I guess._


End file.
